Clockwork

Our journey only lasts but a few short hours, barely enough time for me to collect my thoughts and put on a pleasant face. The train we’re on is a fairly old invention, but still remarkably fast for running on just water and bits of clockwork. Things in The Country move much slower because they rely on gas and coal, so it’s completely new to be put on the fast track and gain thousands of miles in a matter of hours.

The train is slowly coming to a stop, the windows steaming up a bit without the wind resistance to whip the condensed water back. I can feel the wheels hitching back on to the old track, being let down by the heavy cables that carried us from above for most of the journey.

Ferdie pokes his head up from his side of the booth. He moved from my lap to his seat when they served us a little snack of steaming cocoa and ginger snaps an hour or so back and we played a few games of Go Fish and King’s Corner to pass the time.

“Are we there?” Ferdie asks, peeking over the window sill.

“We’re here,” I confirm.

Ferdie’s eyes widen and he plops back down in his seat. “I’m scared, Nan.”

I smile at him. “Don’t be. I sure everything will be lovely.”

“Lovely, lovely, lovely…” Ferdie grumbles darkly.

Amused, I sweep the playing cards back into the package to keep my mind off the nearing station. I can’t help but wonder what everything will be like there though. Will there be other children? Will everyone be nice to us? Will it be cold at night? Will Ferdie and I have our own rooms? Is it awfully dark here? Do the stars look the same at night? I wonder if Uncle Cecil likes children…

It doesn’t take long before we’ve settled to a halt and we must get off.

The people who served us the food are now ushering children out on the platform out to meet the cacophonous noise filtering from the exit door; cars honking, other steam trains blowing their whistles, people shouting, babies crying…

I stand stiffly, holding my suitcase. Ferdie is beside me with his suitcase too. I hold out my hand to him. “Welcome to The Hollow, Ferdie.”

Ferdinand takes my hand, looking up at me with a little smile. “Welcome to The Hollow, Nan.”

We leave the train and it is like nothing I’ve seen before.

The first thing I see is women in ridiculous, high hats in pretentious, grandiose colors with absurdly large feathers trailing off them. Then everything else comes into focus: hundreds upon hundreds of people milling around the train station. Boys in caps with tall stacks of newspapers call out incomprehensible headlines to by passers, small children with dirt on their faces cling to their mothers’ skirts, men in top hats tip other men who cart away their luggage, telephones ring, trains let out angry shrieks one after the other, and the dings of different bells sound like a discordant carillon choir. It’s all very overwhelming and I am too stunned to move—that is until I am shoved from behind by a fat old man with a heavy pocket watch that clunks against ample belly.

Ferdie and I are pushed forward with the crowd like a wave until we wash up at a bank of telephones where there is a surprising lack of people.

“Nan, where do we go?” Ferdie cries.

I don’t answer him and drive my way back into the crowd, toting Ferdie behind me. Perhaps if we reach the entrance we’ll find Uncle Cecil.

“Wait!” Ferdie suddenly yelps.

“What?”

“Do you hear that?”

I pull us over to the nearest wall where we won’t be run over by clomping feet and listen briefly. “No.”

“Listen harder. Our names.”

I listen a while longer. A sweet, soft voice is calling us by name.

“Who is it?” I ask.

“This way,” says Ferdie and he tugs me out through the people to a small clearing in the mass.

Several people are waiting there, holding up signs with names on them. There’s a sign with our names on it, written in elegant script. Attached to the sign is a jumpy-looking woman with huge puffs of pink hair on either side of her head with a bonnet-like hat settled between them. She is wearing a long dress in light blue with an odd, black furry thing on her shoulder.

Ferdie and I approach her cautiously. Was she the one who was singing?

“Hullo…” Ferdie says shyly.

“Oh, children…. Children! Are you my children? Ferdinand and Nancy? Which one is which? I once knew a boy named Nancy, but never a girl named Ferdinand but you never really know these days, I mean, my own parents named me after some sort of beverage! Can you believe? A beverage! So, Nancy the boy and Ferdinand the girl, come along with Cheri and we’ll get you out to the car.” She pauses, looking at us expectantly and the fuzzy thing on her shoulder blinks.

“Excuse me, ma’am, but where is Uncle Cecil?” I ask, figuring I shouldn’t question whatever she just said.

“Oh, he’s very, very busy, Ferdinand. But don’t fret your pretty little head, he’ll meet you later tonight.”

Beside me, Ferdie begins to giggle.

“What on earth is Nancy giggling about?”

I try not smile, but end up grinning anyway under my handkerchief.

“I’m Ferdinand,” Ferdie manages to get out.

She puts her hands on her hips. “Well, why didn’t you say so?” she asks crossly.

I let out a small laugh before holding out my hand. “Pleased to meet you, I’m Nan.”

The woman sighs and shakes my hand. “Hello, Nan. I’m Cheri.” Then she kneels down so she’s eye to eye with Ferdie. “Hello, Ferdinand.” She holds her hand out to him.

“Hello, Cheri,” he says, grabbing her fingers. “You can call me Ferdie.”

“Alright, Ferdie.” Cheri smiles and stands.

Ferdie and I exchange amused looks, he breaks out into a smile. The fuzzy creature on Cheri’s shoulder softly sings, “Na-an, Fer-die…”

“Come along, children!” Cheri bellows, chipper again. “We mustn’t keep the car waiting or else the driver will be cross with us. Do you need me to carry any luggage or have you got it? Alright, alright. You’re big, strong children. Now, stay close. Don’t want you to get lost, now do we? Oh, did you see that bird?!”



“The children are here!” Cheri sings out to the flat.

The ride to the airbase was quiet since Ferdie and I were busy looking out the windows of the car. The buildings around of the train station are a mixture of small stone houses and businesses—almost like the larger villages of The Country except more closely packed—along with towering stone buildings as far as the eye can see that cast shadows across the roads. There were people everywhere we looked, cramming into every crack and crevice. It’s rather strange to say the least. But as we traveled further, up upon a huge bridge that was once meant for trains where we had to be cleared by a guard, it got stranger. Below us were the same small stone buildings and peeking above the bridge were the spire-like structures that spout out fumes from the factories. High above us were thick telephone wires, dangling over the city far below. We passed by water towers and the steeples of churches and the city lights of the fading afternoon glowed warm amber even through the rain clouds.

Although this all was very interesting, Ferdie I were soon gawking at the airbase. The bridge leads to the great stone arches of an enormous structure. It has towers shooting up to the sky, windows on every surface, a great clock tower made of glass that looks out over the entire city—and the airships. They flew at tremendous speeds out of one of the arches surrounding the base, swooping down and weaving around the telephone wires before disappearing into the clouds. Ferdie was so immersed in their flight that he had his nose pressed to the car window without knowing it.

The driver then took us through one of the arches, took a left, and we went down a steep ramp into a lot full of similar black town cars. We drove to a single golden elevator—Cheri told us what it was and insisted that it was perfectly safe when Ferdie refused to get in—and we rode up to the magnificent apartment.

“Hello-ooooo!” Cheri calls again, but it seems as though the apartment is empty. She shrugs. “Hm. No one here. Oh well. Do you need anything, children? Are you hungry or do you want to see your rooms or do you need to find the bathrooms—you can get quite lost here after all, I’ll have to tell you the story sometime of how I got lost my first day—or maybe you’d like to just lay down? I know I like to lie down after travelling. It really takes it out of me. I wonder if that’s the way it is with all women? Do you get tired after travelling, Nan? Or are you Ferdie? No, no. Nan is the girl. Silly me,” she rambles and Ferdie and I just look at each other in complete loss. “Hmm… Perhaps we can go see Rat in the basement later…” she muses.

“There are rats in the basement?!” Ferdie shrieks.

“Oh, good heavens no! Unless you can call the engineers rats.”

“Engineers?” Ferdie asks again, miffed.

“Yes. They work on planes and goofy little knickknacks from old clocks and such. Rat is an engineer and he is not a rat, he is an inventor—or so he likes to say. I’m not sure if I believe it though because the last time he tried making an improvement on the oven, I was covered in soot and dust and it was disgusting! Speaking of soot and dust—“

“Ferdie, you must be starving! Do you happen to have grilled cheese?” I quickly interrupt before Cheri can go off on another tangent.

“Oh, yes! Oh, I’ve been so neglectful of the children’s needs already!” she despairs. “You poor, poor things! If my mother could see me now, she’d say—“

“Cheri!” Ferdie and I yell.

“Why, yes, that’s exactly what she would say. How did you know?” She blinks at us.

There’s a slightly uncomfortable silence.

The furry thing that resides on Cheri’s shoulder flicks its tongue out and swallows a mosquito that has been circling around for a while.

“Oh, grilled cheese! Yes!” Cheri shouts. “Follow me, children!” And then she begins to clomp away towards what can only be the kitchen.

Ferdie and I exchange glances. He spins his finger around near his ear. “Koo-koo,” he hums.

“Ferdie!” I scold.

He shrugs his shoulders and we trail after Cheri, thinking What is this place?